Bird of prey
a falcon where we fish
simple as a master
I do not believe but must believe
in the supple art of folly
to see with an ear
to eat my own
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Doctrine of signatures
ink is the first
forced temple
I sign and seal an agreement
nothing is as personal as handwriting
I make the state a copy
with great seeming art
At the butcher’s
a pot
to carry away the blood
evening in Venice
Your cheatin’ heart
what cheating rogues we are
already married to time
hard heart like a contract
none of us understood but the undertaker
who would not be content
with fair words
Taking attendance
school used to be a time of lead
I was sworn to answer present
the grammar of children is an old shop
found in a new place
Emptying
in some mathematical vision
we proceed by striving to find a void
quick pleasures and sharp agonies
turn into art after a time
who at the burial of lust
could forbear being ash
Postseason
at home plate
only a rabbit
late in the fall
Sustenance
in the heart of noon
making up my accounts
God may be
little better than bread
Landmark
lost
all morning in a marsh
the tower with us
Believer
I think that I should believe so I believe
every other day
in death
I admire that nothing
a plain picture hung on the wall
but I believe too in kindness
and a little talk
and a great deal of supper
Among royals
the barber of the king
observing the results of chance
is alone in his private wonder
that rites at court grow every day
that the queen’s hand challenges the wind
that a skull is dead to prayers
Moss gatherer
my legacy is a green rock
one of the finest in the forest
gentle as an ill face
swelled with pain
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